Ostara Omens

The Spring or vernal equinox had officially arrived. It was the coming of Ostara, an ancient Anglo Saxon belief. The origin of the word Ostara was actually from Eostre, a Germanic goddess of Spring.  It was traditionally regarded as the end of winter and the day that spring arrived.  The great turning of the year as spring moved with joy towards the summer.

“Behold, my friends, the spring is come; the earth has gladly received the embraces of the sun, and we shall soon see the results of their love!

~Sitting Bull~

The March equinox marked the moment the Sun crossed the celestial equator---the imaginary line in the sky above the Earth’s equator---from south to north.  It had been hovering in the wings for weeks, giving tantalising snippets of sunshine, blossoms on trees and early flowers. Birds wooed in the hedgerows and nest hunting, frogspawn laid in ponds and Ladybirds were out sun-bathing. It was time to kiss the old Winter goodbye and welcomed warmer sunnier days. Winter needed to withdraw, and let us enjoy the loveliest of seasons.

“Is the spring coming?” he said.”What is it like?”

“It is the sun shining on the rain and the rain falling on the sunshine…”

~Frances Hodgson Burnett~

But first, we celebrated that special day when people of Irish blood the world over commemorated their most commonly recognised of Patron Saints. Many people of Irish descent, and many who just wanted to be Irish for the day, celebrated by wearing green and feasting on Irish stew, soda bread, corned beef with cabbage. I wore green on St. Patrick’s Day and was the only celebratory thing I did.

But, since everyone's a little bit Irish on St Patrick's Day, and Babe’s half-Irish, I tried a few Irish recipes. Sans the Guinness, we’d potato cakes with Irish lamb stew and instead of Irish apple cake, a slice of upside down pineapple cake for dinner and a toast to all things green.

St. Patrick’s is an enchanted time—a day to begin transforming winter’s dreams into summer’s magic

~Adrienne Cook~

It was a wondrous day of sun on Good Friday as the whole country basked in the sunshine with temperatures soaring and winter seemed a distant memory. The sky was azure blue and the sun shone like a midsummer day. The world seemed like such a happier place when the sun was shining. With spring appeared to have sprung, thousands headed outdoors to enjoy the warmth and we too headed for the Festival of Power at Santa Pod Raceway in Podington, Northampton.

It was a 3 day event and after checking the weather forecast, we finally made the decision to go on a Friday. In 1966, permission was obtained to use the Podington  Airfield, which was formerly a wartime airbase used by the USAAF during WW2, as a drag racing complex with the 3/4 of a mile main runaway being used as a drag strip. The track was named Santa Pod after the Santa Ana strip in America, combined with the name of the local village, Podington. It was surreal to see Santa Pod opening its gates during the Easter weekend to successfully distract their fans from the Easter eggs, chocolate bunnies and hot cross buns for burning tyres, motor oil and loud noises.

Santa Pod was the home of European drag racing. It was the fastest and loudest motorsport on earth with sensational race action from dragsters and doorslammers to beetles and bikes. As soon as we drove through the entrance, we were enveloped in the smell of burning oil and screaming tyres. We joined the thousands and was directed to park in a very muddy field. Then we slowly made our way up the grassy spectators bank walking past stalls, helicopter rides, army tanks, arenas and a circus tent.

The Festival gave the audience their first chance this season to see the beasts that were the Top Fuel Dragsters. These nitro methane guzzling vehicles were capable of speeds of 300 mph over a quarter of a mile which equated to 0-100 in .8 of a second (the first 60 feet of its run) and 0-200 in 2.2 seconds, and honestly you can feel the noise vibrating within you first before you even seen it. Ear plugs were definitely a must. Even standing still, they looked fast

Unfortunately the solo runs by the FireForce 3 and 4 jet cars were cancelled. We were looking forward to seeing this mechanical monster of a machine  as was said to always stop people in their tracks as the intense heat that was propelled from the jet engine took their grip and that the roar of the car silenced the crowds as it accelerated down the strip. I found it amusing that some of these powerful machines conked out at the last minute.

Santa Pod also hosted the first rounds of both the National drag Racing Championship and the European Funny Car Series and was one of the first times that racers could see improvements they had made to their vehicles during the winter build period. They could see if their running times had improved and whether their reaction times were quicker. 

There was a break from the track for the spectators to enjoy the performances from the live action arena. First on the arena was Jez Avery, a mountain bike stunt legend and one of the originators of freestyle mountain biking. He performed an amazing show on 4 wheels, 2 wheels and one wheel which included wheelies, stoppies, drifting, doughnuts, precision driving, two wheel driving and the roll over quad. He performed all his own stunts and kept everyone on the edge of their seats in stitches over his humorous commentaries.

Next was the Peugeot 205 Jet car fitted with a jet engine. Herve Franquin had brought his mind boggling car all the way from France to heat up the crowds. A jet engine was a reaction engine discharging a fast moving jet that generated thrust by jet propulsion. The noise was unbearable and we were very, very unlucky to be standing right in front of it when it turned and was blasted with jet fuel. It was yucky.

Then it was the turn of the Arrepiado Stuntmen that did impossible things with bikes, quadbikes and a smart car. We fell in love when one of the crew drifted with the smart car. Drifting was a driving technique where the driver intentionally over steered the car, causing loss of traction in the rear wheels through corners while preserving vehicle control and a high exit speed.

After all the adrenalin performances, the mighty Monster truck show came into the arena.  Podzilla and Swamp Thing. jumped and crushed the cars in a battle to find the carnage king. With jaw-dropping stunts on two and four wheels, Podzilla was built in 1998 weighing 10K pounds. It was the Santa Pod resident monster truck and a previous European champion. Swamp Thing was refurbished in 2005 and had completed in international Monster jam shows.

After these performances ended, the arena was was taken over by the monster truck rides where visitors sat on the full size monster truck. On the track, it was the thrill of the wild fuel altereds NFAA qualifying event with the obligatory storming burnouts and unfortunate shut-downs. Crazy, suicidal, insane were the words used to describe these drivers. Featuring nitro-burning 2K horsepower powerplants sitting on a tiny frame and a short wheelbase, these machines were fast and extremely dangerous.

There was a break for Eric Teboul to hurl down the strip at over 200 mph world breaking rocket-propelled hydrogen peroxide bike. Rocket-powered vehicles used thrust, created by the pressurization of the hydrogen peroxide to power such incredible, instantaneous speeds. Once lit, these engines continued running until they ran out of fuel, making the fueling process an exercise of life or death. Thus only  enough top fuel was put into the tank to power the vehicle for the distance it needed to run, and not a millisecond more.

We later watched the sportsman qualifying and the jetcars side by side run. The strip grandstand was packed even though it cost £5 per person to sit near the noise and the smoke. We did once before but we preferred to be on the hill. The only problem was most action was on the start line and often the bigger, faster cars were freewheeling by the last 100 yards to where we were standing.

After a long full day of non-stop action, it was time to head home. But first, we had our picnic with the Red Kites riding the waves and crows begging for food. Then we joined the long queue trying to leave the place. It had been a brilliant day for those who enjoyed speed and noise, a must do event for petrol heads. Few motorsport venues could offer such thrilling ‘close to the action’ viewing.

After yesterday’s excitement, I went for a gentler pursuit meeting CC and her new partner in town. The town was buzzing as there were a few Easter celebrations going on. I stopped to listen to some energetic Gospel singing at the Market Square.  When I arrived at Kahawa Cafe, it was closed!!! Since I was early, I popped over to the British Heart Foundation charity shop and came out with a few books. I went back to Kahawa where I was introduced to Mr L. We headed to Meseta where CC treated me to a lovely mug of hot, yummy steaming chocolate. We’d a lovely time catching up and promised to set another date to meet again.

Clocks went forward an hour on Easter Sunday. Longer days meant extra hours of daylight and I am looking forward to coming home from work and was able to spent a few hours out in the garden. The morning started bright and sunny and breezy with intensely clear and blue sky. Even though the weather was still cold, the days were beginning to be longer and fingers-crossed, the sun will be brighter and warmer. I

In the garden, the birds were singing at the top of their voice. The Blackbirds had taken up station at the top of the Elderflower tree where he sang away at dawn and dusk. The red-breast sang his sweet lyrical song from the top of the bird-feeder while the Dunnock flat warbling  were lower down. The noisy and gregarious house sparrows were chirping non-stop too. The pigeons joined the chorus, cooing from the roof top.

The highly coloured Goldfinches with their bright red angry face and yellow wing patches had started visiting the feeder which hung on the rose arch right across our bedroom. These sociable birds had delightful twittering songs and calls. I always enjoyed watching them extract the niger seeds with their long fine beaks. They were messy eaters too, dropping a lot of the seeds and other things onto the ground... I couldn’t wait for them to bring their little ones to the feeder.

We also paid a visit to our  favourite playground. Along Primrose bank, the low-flying zig-zag flight of a Queen bee caught my attention. She was busy searching for a nest, investigating whether the site was suitable by going into the hole. We heard Water rails calling deep in the undergrowth from their  ‘squealing’ pig calls. Marsh marigold were brightening the reserve with their stunning yellow flowers.

We stopped at Baldwin Hide and saw Shovelers, Mallards and Tufted ducks enjoying the high water levels. A Great Crested Grebe in his spectacular breeding plumage cruised past. We headed for East Marsh Hide where a pair of Oyster Catcher were busy feeding, probing for worms with their long, orange pointed bills. From time to time, they gave out a loud piping alarm call.

We continued on and as we walked under the canopy of trees, my eyes were peeled to the ground looking for colour as intense as summer. On the embankment, sheltered under a tangle of alder, willow and hawthorn, among moss-covered twigs brought down by the winter storms, were these scarlet elf cups. They were seemingly immune to frost damage and these flashes of scarlet heralded the arrival of spring. Their parabolic surfaces were as vivid as a guardsman’s regimental tunic.

We stopped at Carlton Hide and was delighted to get close to this adorable Little Grebe which was feeding right in front of the hide. A small, dumpy dabchick which appeared to have a fluffy rear end. It was in its summer colours with its bright chestnut throat and cheeks and a pale gape patch at the base of the bill. When it finally spotted us, it quickly dived in and surfaced near the reed-beds.

‘Upon this promise did he raise his chin

Like a dive-dapper, peering through a wave

Who being looked on, ducks as quick in”

~Shakespeare ‘Venus and Adonis~

Easter Monday was a washout as the heavens opened and rain fell steadily all day. High pressure responsible for the recent settled weather was nudged out by stormy Atlantic conditions. The Easter bunny brought Storm Kate and with it a disappointing festival of ‘coats, jumpers and brollies’. The weathermen warned of a miserable start of the astronomical spring. They blamed the erratic nature of the jet stream which had turned and twisted bringing in the mixed weather. 

But then it was a good excuse to dedicate the day to lazing about, eating chocolate, watching telly, reading and blogging. Unless of course if you go to church, in which case Easter was quite a big deal. But I don’t, so please pass me the the mini eggs The best thing about Easter was that it was relatively light on the wallet, as holidays go. No cards, no parties, no presents. I bunged a leg of lamb in the oven with all the trimmings and dinner sorted.

March bustles in on windy feet
And sweeps my doorstep and my street.
She washes and cleans with pounding rains,
Scrubbing the earth of winter stains.
She shakes the grime from carpet green
Till naught but fresh new blades are seen.
Then, house in order, all neat as a pin,
She ushers gentle springtime in.

~Susan Reiner, Spring Cleaning~

But the last days of March ended with a truly fabulous weather. It was dry, sunny and pleasantly warm once the sun had lifted the early morning chill. It was a good day to be in the garden. I’d bought a small 4-tier plastic greenhouse to start of my seeds. On the top tier, I’d sown Cavelo Nero, Chard, French beans and French black beans,. Below it were Borage and different varieties of sunflowers. Next was 2 trough of Mizuma and mixed salad leaf. At the bottom were more sunflowers.

In the front garden, I dug a third of the lawn to make it into a wildflower meadow. At first, I thought of doing the whole lawn but it was too much hard work, especially when it comes to weeding and watering them. The huge Pampas grass was still standing proud in the middle. I used a whole pack of wildflower meadow mix  and looking forward to something coming out. 

Flowers always make people better, happier and more helpful; they are sunshine, food and medicine to the soul

~Luther Burbank~

While I was busy digging the very hard soil, I noticed a bird feeding in my neighbour’s immaculate lawn. It was a Mistle Thrush. I quickly washed my hand and ran upstairs to grab my camera. It was still there when I came out. All you could hear was my camera clicking away.

I loved the way this pale, black-spotted thrush stood boldly upright and bounded across the lawn picking insects and worms.. When it flew off with its rattling call, the whitish edges was visible on its long wings and tail. It perched high on top of a tree at the bottom of the driveway and sang a fluty song. They were known as Stormcocks due to country tales that  the dreamy song was the last to be heard before a storm. And that night, the heavens opened…

“In order to see birds it is necessary to become part of silence”

~Robert Lynd~

March is a Tomboy with Tousled Hair

“March is a  tomboy with tousled hair, a mischievous smile, mud on her shoes and a laugh in her voice”

~Hal Borland~ 

March had been a month of celebrations. We welcomed the third month on the feast day of St. David, the patron saint of Wales. He was born around the year 520 and founded a monastery at Glyn Rhosyn in the year 550. In the 12th century he was made the patron saint of Wales, with his feast day on 1st March.  It wasn’t until the 18 ^th century when the day was declared a national day of celebration in Wales. He was believed to have died on 1st March 589 and his final words to his followers were

“Be cheerful and keep your faith and belief, and do the little things, the small things you’ve heard and seen me doing”.

The Welsh marked the day by wearing a leek or daffodil, the national emblems of Wales, or by displaying the flag of St. David, which featured a yellow cross on a black background. I couldn’t find my daffodil pin and wore a Welsh dragon brooch instead. The Red dragon on the Welsh flag was used by Henry VII when he defeated Richard III at the Battle of Bosworth on 22nd August 1485 after which it was carried in state to St Paul’s Cathedral. It was included as a supporter of the Tudor royal arms to signify their Welsh descent.

It was very appropriate to celebrate the day as the daffodils were blooming profusely now. The front lawn was dotted with them. Unfortunately, the ones in the pot had gone dud.They will be replanted into the ground and I must remember to get a big sack of bulbs in Autumn to replace them. All the road verges and roundabouts were planted with these cheerful blooms greeting everyone with a smile from their bright yellow cheery trumpets.

”Each time a Guardian Angel notices a good deed, a prayer, kindness or sacrifice

She plucks a gold star from the heavens and sends it to earth, where it blooms as a golden daffodil”

~Unknown~

I also started the month falling sick. My head ached. Everything ached. It was not even the start of the hay-fever season. General malaise had resulted in doing hardly anything and not feeling like doing much at all. I still went to work but by lunch time I was feeling wretched, worn out and pathetic that I’d to go home. 

“Sometimes the best way to recharge our batteries is to unplug them’”

~Unknown~

I think I was also feeling down and sad because my mum would be 77 this month. I missed her so much and her birthday was close to Mothering Sunday. Although my sister and father in Malaysia put a fresh bouquet every week, I sent some cash for them to purchase a dozen red roses from both of us to be put on her grave. I am ever grateful for all the sacrifice and care she had given me. I could never repay her for this. It was priceless and treasured beyond measure. If she was looking on me from the other realm, I hoped she would be proud of me.  Al-fatihah Emak.

“Those we love don’t go away, they walk beside us everyday…unseen, unheard, but always near, still loved, still missed and very dear…”

~Unknown~

I thought I was still hallucinating when the fluffy white flakes arrived for the last time this winter. We don’t really get much snow here in the Midlands and I was holding my breath when the weatherman forecasted heavy snow. Woo..hoo. It came  down on my way home from work and got heavier and heavier and heavier. I was smiling from ear to ear and couldn’t wait to get home. I’d always loved snow and always gotten really excited when I saw it falling. I loved how everything was silent in the aftermath of a snowfall, of how pristine it was and how pure, untouched.

As soon as we reached home, I was out in the back garden wandering about in the whiteness wonder of it all. I looked up the sky and felt the magic of it falling on my face. I plopped over and made a snow angel. Snow always brought with it that childlike sense of wonder and awe that never diminished with the passing years. My neighbours if they were looking were used to seeing me like this.

It didn’t last long and melted by lunch time the next day. It was lovely listening to the sound of the streets alive with the sounds of children having snow-ball fights and sledging so early in the morning. The sun came out bringing some warmth and we made the most of the bright and dry interlude, pleasantly spring-like with a chance to enjoy the outdoors. We drove to Ashlawn Cutting to see if the boys had returned.

The sky was a beautiful bright blue with gentle clouds caressing the stretch of Warwickshire sky.  Along the ziz-zag path, we were serenaded by bird songs. Long Tailed tits were skulking among the brambles, searching for places to build nests. Colourful Goldfinches with black and yellow wings and red face were twittering rapidly above us. Drifts of snowdrops and coltsfoot were spotted below the thick undergrowth.

We were late again as the pond under the bridge was filled with frog spawn. There was at least a dozen frogs in the pond, sunning themselves. A bit of sunshine and they were all out. And as we approached the pond, all we could see were these eyes following and focusing on us. We stepped forward very slowly and some of them even swam towards us to check us out. We’d missed the mating season as there were only males and they were guarding the transparent jelly mass round the newly laid spawn. The female had already let and I guess catching their breath deep in the forest. We spent hours bending and on our knees while rattling hundreds of shots surrounded by the gentle brrp or purring noises as they frolicked in the water.

Old pond

Frogs jumped in

Sound of water

~Matsuo Basho~

I also took 2 days off cos I’m adding another year to my age. I never took birthdays for granted and I intended to celebrate them in style. Babe showered me with a card, a vintage radio and a trip to Aberystwyth. Thanks darling. Mwah. I’d a also few outings on my list and hoping to tick them off.

I didn’t bake a cake for my colleagues but made my famous Seri Muka which was steamed glutinous rice with a pandan custard topping, crispy vegetable spring rolls and gooey, super healthy truffles. It went down like a storm. My super-fit colleagues, HH and NW even requested the recipes for the truffles.

Beetroot superfood truffles

1 large ready cooked vacuum pack beetroot
1 large ripe avocado, peeled
¼ tsp vanilla extract
3 tbsp pure maple syrup
100g unsweetened cacao powder plus extra for dusting
desiccated coconut for dusting

Method

– Put the beetroot, avocado, vanilla extract, maple syrup and half of the cacao powder into a blender or food processor. Process until well combined.

– Add the remaining cacao powder to the blender and again process until well combined. Transfer the chocolate mixture to a small bowl. Cover and refrigerate for at least an hour.

– Once chilled, scoop tablespoon-sized portions of the mixture. Roll in your palms to form balls – the mixture will be slightly sticky but should form balls easily. 

– Put some extra cacao powder and desiccated coconut in a plate and roll the chocolate truffles around in one or the other to coat.

My birthday was on the Ides of March but there was no need to be on guard. Caesar probably should have been. Yet he ignored the soothsayer who told him to ‘beware the Ides of March’ in the first act of Shakespeare’s Julius Caesar Act 1, scene 2, 15-19. For me, it meant that it was halfway through the month and I toasted that the 2nd half of the month will be better weather wise.

“We have to be able to grow up. Our wrinkles are our medals of the passage of life. They are what we have been through and who we want to be.

~Lauren Hutton~

I started my birthday celebration early with a trip to Slimbridge WWT. On the way down, we saw the low lying farmland either side of the River Avon was water logged. The river had burst its bank and the brown murky water had flooded the fields. It was quite dramatic but unfortunately, my camera was in the boot of the car. When we arrived at the reserve, we were greeted by this huge yellow duck at the entrance which was used for the Easter rubber duck hunt at the end of the month. Should be fun.

As we walked through the grounds, we noticed that the Bewick’s had already taken to the skies for their mammoth journey back to the Arctic. It was a privilege to have seen them so close. Fingers-crossed it will be a good breeding year for them and more will return back in the Autumn. We checked out the nearly empty Rushy Hide with just a few dozen Shelducks and Pintails present. I was more interested in this pair of lovey-dovey pigeons.

In the spring, a young man’s fancy lightly turns to thought of love

~Tennyson~

They were billing and cooing. During the courting session, the male will be puffing his throat, fanning his tail and cooing and strutting circles around the female. This pair was preening each other, nibbling the neck. When they billed and cooed, the male was demonstrating that he was a good provider. I could stay here the whole day watching them…

We went to the Martin Smith Hide and scanned the very quiet tack piece. The usually very noisy Wigeons were fast asleep and so were the White Fronted geese. But not the Shelducks. They were being territorial and quarrelsome as it was the breeding season.  A pair of Great Crane were seen flying in and landed at the further end of the field.

I was chuffed when I spotted a Little Egret fishing right in front of me. How anyone could miss this pure white wader with its attractive white plumes on its crest, back and chest. As it slowly moved among the reeds, its long black legs and dark, stabbing bills with vivid yellow feet was clearly visible. During the breeding season, this breeding adult had developed the two, slender nape snow-white plumes.

Trust not too much in whiteness as a symbol

for who can tell when foulness frames the bridal gown

or when smirched mind hides behind laundered wimple?

As for th' untrammelled snows, so beautiful,

likely they're scheming how they might remove your toes,

perhaps even peck off your precious nose.

Consider now the Egret how pure and innocent she seems,

dropping on angel wings from a heavenly sky

to stab to death every last thing that moves beneath her bright eye.

~Consider now the Egret by Wayland Wordsmith ~

As there was nothing exciting in the other hides, we walked back into the reserve grounds. We spotted the sooty-grey Coots and blackish-brown Moorhens nesting on nests made of dead reeds, grasses and sticks near the water’s edge in the shelter of the vegetation. We watched the Golden Eye drake courtship behaviour, head bobbing, elaborate neck pumping and spectacular sudden upward thrust of the head. And by Zeiss Hide, the Rooks were busy gathering sticks for nest-building. They were very chatty while they work building their nests up high in the trees.

Below the Rookery, under the canopy of the trees were large swathes of the glorious green Ramson or wild garlic. A member of the Allium family, the young luscious and drooping leaves when crushed left an unmistakable strong garlicky aroma. I picked a few leaves and brought it home and added them to the stir-fry we’d for dinner. Despite the strong smell of the leaves, the actual flavour that remained were mild, like fresh chives. I have a pot growing in the garden which I’m also looking forward to harvest.

We stopped at Otter Pool because we arrived just on time for the Otter talk and feeding time. Babe climbed up the wall to his usual position where he would be able to take photographs without the obstruction of the glass walls. The cheeky trio of Flo and her twins, Minnie and Haha never failed to vow the audience with their acrobatic displays.

We then headed straight to the South Lake Discovery Hide which was also empty both in and out. A pair of the world’s rarest goose, the Nene or Hawaiian Goose, nesting in the bushes caught our attention. The nest was built on the ground lined with down and concealed by vegetation. We watched the female got up to turn a creamy white egg. The male was trying his best to divert our attention from the nest.

We wanted to check out the Hogarth Hide which was at the back end of South Lake but it was being renovated. We’d a quick walk around the ‘Geese of the World’ corner and photographed the stunning plumage of the Mandarin’s drake. A native of China and Japan, they were widely regarded as the world’s most beautiful duck and don’t they know it . The female of these little perching ducks were dull in comparison, with a grey head, brown back and white eye-stripe. Then it was time to head home.

The next day, we headed for Aberystwyth. It was 15C when we left the casa. Yellow gorse bushes and white  hawthorn blossoms brightened up the Shropshire countryside. Unfortunately, it was also the time when farmers were preparing their fields. The aroma was really over-powering :-). When we crossed the Montgomeryshire/Ceredigion border, I was quite surprised to see some pockets of snow on the Cambrian Mountains.

We headed straight to Bwlch Nant yr Arian which was very windy and freezing. After using the facilities and freshening up, we stationed ourselves near the bird-feeder and rattled hundreds of shots. The usual culprits were there. The bird feeder was overran with Chaffinches, Greenfinches, Great tits and Siskins. Below, Dunnocks and Robins congregated catching the dropped seeds.

A bird-feeder was stationed near the children’s playground which I thought was a bit out of place. It was still busy with Chaffinches, Great tits and this Coal Tit which was brave enough to fly in and grab a seed. It would take a seed and flew off to store the food somewhere safe and ate it later. I was standing quite close to see its distinctive grey, black cap and white patch at the back of its neck.

Then we made our way down to the lakeside along the Barcud Trail, joining the visitors who were already there. Hundreds of Red Kites were circling and gliding above us waiting. The warden arrived on time and spread the meat on the ground opposite us with only the lake separating. Unfortunately, he didn’t throw any meat into the lake. The birds watched and waited their chance to furl their wings and dived in, skimming the ground to snatch a scrap before rising suddenly. It was territorial jousting.

It was amazing watching the hundreds of birds diving in for food and they never collided. With the meat clutched in its talons they make for clear airspace where they felt secure enough to feed. With its 1.8 metre wings spread out for stability the head turns down to meet with its forward lifted legs. Now the kite can feed, but must still keep an eye out for other marauding kites.

But a majority of the birds didn’t fly down to feed. Instead, they chased after those who had food with them. We watched them flying after each other with fast, twisting chases and in groups as they tried to grab the food, often forcing the bird to drop it. As the food dropped, a second bird twirled down catching it mid-air and the chase continued. The commotion that accompanied these airborne squabbles were ear-piercing, like a high-pitched prolonged excited screech. It was amazing to watch their aerial prowess and combat.

A few flew quite close to where we were standing that we could see the pale grey head and striking almost translucent white underwings patches and black tips on the primaries contrasting with warm orange or russet coloured feathers on the body and upper tail which appeared to glow like red embers giving them an ethereal appearance. With twisting deeply forked swallow-like tail and long slightly angled wings it turned this way and that soaring and spiralling skyward catching the unseen breath of wind or an uplifting warm air thermal. We watched its golden orbed eyes surveying below for food.

Silently soaring on fingered wings
Twisting and turning and using the breeze
Gliding above us he sees many things
Side-slipping, diving and dipping with ease

His beady eyes pick out his prey
Above the ridge he starts to hover
Making minor adjustments for the wind on his way
He swoops on his victim without any bother

The vale of Cwmystwyth is far down below
Splendidly glowing in the late evening sun
The red kite spins and puts on a show
He really knows how to have some fun

He's the red kite, the colour of Wales
The path of his flight writes a song in the skies
The Welsh Dragon's tongue is in the fork of his tail
Power and beauty clash as he flies

~Red Kite by Sunnetra Basu~

Then we made our way to Aberystwyth. The promenade was buzzing as the seaside down bathed in the sunshine. We’d a hard time finding a parking spot and only managed to get one when a car was leaving. Babe waited in the car while I nipped over to the chippy for a traditional seaside lunch of fish and chips. I was glad I brought my camera with me because I spotted a pair of Ringed Plovers flying in and these Turnstones feeding under the Pier.

We drove to the South Beach to have our lunch under the imposing Pen Dinas Hill Fort with its chimney-like Duke of Wellington, Victor of Waterloo monument . Having fish and chips by the sea had recently became a tradition for us. We sat in the car and watched the choppy waves beating against the sea defence. After finishing our lunch, we walked along the shoreline towards the breakwater lighthouse and braced the breeze.

I really missed this place and cherished every trip we made here. I’d walked these roads and knew every nook and cranny. I’d trekked along the amazing coastline, hiked up the various hills, and drove through winding country roads with tiny stone hamlets where if you blinked, you would missed them. And I’m glad that it was only 3 hours away from where we lived now.

“Thank God I have the seeing eye, that is to say, as I lie in bed I can walk step by step on the fells and rough land seeing every stone and flower and patch of bog and cotton pass where my old legs will never take me again.”

~Beatrix Potter~

I concluded my birthday celebration by checking out the Wildlife Photographer of the Year 2015 exhibition at the Herbert Art Gallery and Museum. This world-renowned exhibition, on loan from the Natural History Museum of London, showcased 100 awe-aspiring images, featuring fascinating animal behaviour and breath-taking wild landscapes. We dived deep into the oceans, flew amongst the tree tops and journeyed across sand dunes checking out the variety of life this earth had to offer. What an amazing exhibition to mark my birthday.

March, when days are getting long,

Let thy growing hours be strong

To set right some wintry wrong

~Caroline May, 1887~